A good ice cream lulls in the mind in the same way, almost, and there is about it the sweet intoxication of virtue

The Islamic warriors did not see anything to enrage them. The bar did not exist. The women were not 'exposed'. There was just the mall itself, where I sat down at last to eat an ice cream under the smiles of the headscarfed girls who served them. Ice cream. Isn't ice cream always the substitution for a nice beer, from 'dry' Islamabad to 'dry' Ocean City, New Jersey?  A good ice cream lulls in the mind in the same way, almost, and there is about it the sweet intoxication of virtue.

L. Osborne, The wet and the dry (2013), 173-4

Shi'ites always cut a deal. It was the Sunni fanatics who were the darkest version of the future

I went to Chateau Massaya and had lunch with the winemaker Ramzi Ghosn. He insisted that Hezbollah were not a problem. Their people made substantial earnings as vineyards workers and in the light of this reality the clerics would turn a blind eye. Shi'ites always cut a deal. It was the Sunni fanatics who were the darkest version of the future.

'The boys with the beards up in the hills, they are the ones who make me sleepless at night. They are the madmen. The Shi'a are something else.'

'Not true fanatics?' 

'Not about these things.'

L. Osborne, The wet and the dry (2013), 33 

They differed once about whether the earth rotates on its own axis in space or stands on the head of an ox

On subjects outside religion, their disputes were not infrequent. For example, they differed once about whether the earth rotates on its own axis in space or stands on the head of an ox. When she found the boy insistent, she backed down and pretended to give in. All the same, she slipped off to Fahmy's room to ask him about the truth of the ox supporting the earth, and whether it still did. The young man thought he should be gentle with her and answer in language she would like. He told her that the earth is held up by the power and wisdom of God. His mother left content with this answer, which pleased her, and the large ox was not erased from her imagination.

N. Mahfouz, Palace Walk (1956), tr. W.M. Hutchins and O.E. Kenny (1990), 64